When Darkness Comes
by Shadowrose89
Summary: Adria is just a ordinary cleaning girl caught up in the affairs of an Opera Ghost, or is she? Erik should know better than anyone that there's often more to people than meets the eye. Based largely on Leroux's novel, may include bits from movie. EOC
1. Chapter 1: Death Threat

AN: This is my first fan fiction so please leave me lots of comments with constructive criticism or tell me if you like it. I do not own any of the characters from The Phantom of the Opera.

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Adria sat high above the dancers, watching their graceful movements with envy. There had been a time when she had loved to dance, but things change. She was too old now to go through the rigorous training the little ballet rats had participated in since they could walk. Suddenly feeling eyes on her, the woman turned to face the empty catwalks. A spider scuttled in the shadows. The young cleaning girl shrugged off the peculiar feeling and gently encouraged the creature into her hand. Imagine fearing something so small Adria thought with amusement. The spider rested momentarily on her palm before rushing away to tend her webs. Adria sighed and giving the dancers one more wistful glance began to descend from her perch; although she had no work to do for hours, she knew the stagehands would not appreciate her presence on the catwalk. 

As she carefully lowered herself back on the ground, Her friend Anne approached her. "You'll break your neck one of these days," she cringed. Anne was a petite girl who had many fears, heights being a significant one. Adria humored her with a shamed face. Anne shook her head, but opted for a change of subject, "The crew is supposed to be holding quite a party tonight. You are going to be there aren't you?"

Adria sighed, despite her phobias and superstitions, Anne was in no way timid or shy around others. She was, in fact, a social butterfly. Adria was just the opposite – quiet and reserved. She would much prefer to read alone in her room than to flirt with drunken stagehands or giggle mindlessly at the dancers' gossip. Although they had only known each other for a few months, Adria knew Anne was aware of this. "No, I appreciate the invitation, but I'm much too tired."

Anne pouted, "You really need to come out of that shell of yours. You're so beautiful! All the men would be drooling over you if they knew you existed, but you're always holed up in your apartment!"

Adria laughed, "Is that supposed to entice me? Thank you for the complement, but I'd prefer to keep my skirts drool free." Anne rolled her eyes and ran off to join the other ballerinas.

Adria returned to her room to read her new book. Unfortunately, it was an easy read and she was finished by ten, and not tired enough to sleep. In her restlessness, she recalled the invitation she had received earlier that day. Hesitantly, she headed towards the backstage area, where she was sure the party would be held. When she arrived, however, the area was deserted, but she heard a voice coming from below and a glow rising from an open trapdoor. She was rather curious; she had thought the cellars were strictly off limit to all except those who worked there. Surely no one would still be working at this hour? Adria hung uncertainly by the trapdoor. She could not make out the voice but it did not sound like a party. Just as she made the decision to go back to bed, Adria heard a bloodcurdling scream from below. The cleaning girl stood startled for a moment before hurrying over to look down the trapdoor to see if someone was seriously hurt or in need of help. She hadn't even considered abandoning the person, for she knew she may have been the only one to hear the scream, and able to help. She could not see anything below, but shouted into the abyss, "Hello? What happened? Do you need help?" There was no response.

Adria scurried down the trapdoor's ladder, and followed the light around a corner. Now it was Adria's turn to scream, and scream she did. There, between two old sets hung the body of Joseph Buquet, the chief sceneshifter. His face was contorted in fear, and frozen in death, with the lamp throwing strange and frightening shadows across it as he swung slowly back and forth.

Erik had not counted on someone finding Buquet's body so quickly, certainly not while he remained in the room. He cursed himself silently for letting the man see him before killing him. It was a morbid desire for the foolish sceneshifter to see the reality of his ghost stories that had prompted the ghost to allow it. Now the pathetic man's terrified scream had brought an inconvenient witness. Erik was trapped now, behind the scenery unable to get to the secret door that would allow him a smooth escape. Erik shook his head; The Infamous Opera Ghost, trapped, and by a simple girl no less? No, what he had now was an opportunity to further the fear the opera's staff felt for him. He did not like involving innocent women in his tricks, but she had involved herself, after all.

Adria cringed, closed her eyes, and turned away. More frightening than the dead body was the terror fixed upon the corpse's features. Besides the scream, this convinced her that the death was not the suicide it might appear to be. She was certain Buquet had been murdered, and feared the hand behind it was still nearby. She deeply regretted her scream now, realizing she may be alone with a murderer. There was nothing left to be done for Buquet and Adria knew she must escape from this underground chamber before it claimed it's next victim. The moment she thought this, she heard a whisper in her ear, "I suppose, my darling, you would like to follow suit? I may, after all have room for one more soul…" The cold threatening voice sent a chill up Adria's spine. Her eyes shot open and her feet took flight. She didn't dare glance back, but could have sworn, as she left, she saw a tall, dark figure with a skull for a head.


	2. Chapter 2: Ghost Tales

A/N: Thank you so much for the wonderful reviews! This chapter isn't as exciting, but I still rather like it.

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Adria was on her hands and knees scrubbing the stage ferociously, refusing to dwell on the events of the previous night. She had reported Buquet's death to night watchmen, and word had spread that it was she who had discovered the body. The entire afternoon had been filled with curious members of the staff, especially younger ones, questioning her. Adria had given naught but the most vague responses, frustrating the pestering busybodies. They soon gave up on her and shared their own suspicions that she was involved in a more sinister way behind her back. Adria hardly cared; she had few friends here as it was, and she knew the event would soon be forgotten in the continuous drama of the most famous opera house in all of France. She hadn't slept the previous night, and despite her refusal to speak of the occurrence she had been thinking of nothing else. She had enjoyed hearing tales of the Opera Ghost for she found it was fun to pretend the grand old building was subject to severe and frightening hauntings. Never before had she even considered the possibility of the ghost really existing. However, every ballet rat had insisted that the ghost had been responsible for Buquet's death, and Adria could not dispel that chilling voice or spectral figure from her mind. 

Anna approached Adria from behind, and tapped her gently on the shoulder. Adria jumped and twirled around on the spot. Eyebrows raised, Anne tried to cover her amusement with concern, as she asked, "A bit jumpy today aren't we?" Adria forced a smile. She wished to confide in her only friend, but she doubted Anne could keep this a secret and did not want the entire opera house to know she was seeing ghosts. To her surprise, Anne did not question her about the suicide or murder of the sceneshifter, but seemed genuinely concerned. She asked Adria why she had not showed up at the party last night, and swore that she had informed her that they were holding it on the roof. Anne then filled Adria's ears with the comparatively mundane details of the party, which Adria, for once, listened to attentively and gratefully. It was nice to have the mental distraction, but it did not last long. As Anne began describing the brawl that had occurred over a particularly comely costume girl, a man dressed in the uniform of the Parisian police sauntered up to the stage and interrupted.

"I was told you were the one who found the body of Joseph Buquet," He stated in a bored voice, "Would you kindly submit to a brief interview?" Submitting to an interview on this subject was the last thing Adria wished to do, but she had a good idea that it wasn't optional. She tried to prepare herself as she followed the rather rotund investigator into a side room for privacy. The man offered her a chair, but did not sit himself. As he towered over her he asked her to tell what she had seen. Adria told her story to the best of her ability, but left out the part about the death's head and the strange voice. She very much doubted that the police would put any credit to her story if she included them. In addition, if there really was a phantom that ruled over the opera and knew all that occurred within its walls, telling the police of his existence would surely annoy him. When Adria finished, she looked up to find her interrogator quite annoyed.

"I am afraid I have misunderstood you. Your story seems to imply that Buquet was murdered," the investigator stated with a frown.

"There is no doubt in my mind that he was," Adria announced defensively, "Why would you investigate if you believed otherwise?"

The man shrugged wearily, "Protocol. There is no evidence to suggest that this was anything other than natural suicide."

"Well, I suppose now there is," Adria alleged. She was realizing now that it was necessary for her to come forward with the whole story. "Men don't often scream in terror as they kill themselves. I suppose I should add that I heard someone threaten me as I was leaving the room, and I thought I saw a figure in black with a skull for a head. I presume he wore a mask of some kind."

The expression on the officer's face changed quickly from annoyance to downright anger, his fat face turning a nasty splotchy red. "Changing the story now, huh? 'Gotta make it all more dramatic! I'll be chalking this nonsense evidence up to a young lady's vivid imagination and attention-seeking! Joseph Buquet is responsible for his own death, and I'm bringing this case to the quick, simple close a suicide entails." This passionate tirade complete, the investigator marched through the door and slammed it shut.

Adria was angry that he had chosen to ignore her testimony simply because he was too lazy to bring the culprit to justice, but she got over it quickly. The interview had not gone unlike she feared it would, but she had not had much faith in Parisian police to begin with. After a moment of quiet contemplation, the cleaning girl returned to the laborious work of cleaning out the theater before the next night's performance.


End file.
